


Sad and About to be Abandoned

by Too_Funny



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drunk Sex, John is ressurected, M/M, Out of Character, Parent/Child Incest, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11018817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_Funny/pseuds/Too_Funny
Summary: Just a little fic that I wrote. Fair warning--didn't put much effort into it. Wanted to share it with the fandom instead of just deleting it. If you want to adopt, please feel free, just let me know.





	Sad and About to be Abandoned

Then  
  
Dean had only wanted to express his gratitude, to show John how he valued the amazing things his return had brought into their lives; namely the return to a simpler time when everything used to be more... carefree. Dean came up behind his father sitting at the table, absorbed in the map laid out before him. He wrapped his arms around John's torso in a warm affectionate hug and draped his chin over his shoulder.  
  
Yet soon the friendly affection morphed into something stronger, something emanating from deep within him. Turning his head, Dean inhaled the almost-gone scent of his father’s after-shave. As John brought up his hands to embrace Dean's arms within his own, Dean thought about how odd it was that he always looked like he shaved three days ago, not more and not less.  
  
His lips parted from the sudden and overwhelming change in emotion, this odd need that he had felt before, but that was so wrong in this context. And that was when John turned his head to look at him and, though his eyes were closed, Dean could feel the intensity of his gaze. He could also feel the motion of John's hand leaving his left forearm and reappearing on his lips, his calloused fingers running over the top and bottom simultaneously. He  gasped with the raw electricity of this seemingly small, insignificant touch.  
  
At that, he let go of Dean as if he'd be incinerated. Dean reluctantly pulled away from him as well, when John said, his voice more gruff than usual, "I never noticed how nice your lips are, Dean."

* * *

 

Now  
  
"I gave up everything because of you! A normal life, safety, even a place to call home. All so you could just abandon us later?" Dean stared at a striped pillow on the motel bed, the green faded and the white now a grey, not being able to look John in the face. "Just please tell me...why?" he asked more quietly as he looked up at John, voice cracking.  
  
"I wouldn't leave if I didn't have to, son."  
  
Dean refused to listen to such bullshit and remain calm. This was bringing back painful memories of when his father had disappeared for months. Would the same happen now? Would he and Sam not hear from their father ever again? Dean would be damned if he just stood by and let his father leave, especially after all they've been through together. He wouldn't let let him throw away a second chance like this.  
  
"Is this why God resurrected you? So you could abandon us again?"  
  
With those words Dean whirled around and left abruptly, leaving tension dense enough to be sliced with a knife. He slammed the door more out of spite than actual anger. He wasn't angry. Dean wouldn't know how to describe how he felt--and why would he have to anyway? It wasn't like anyone would listen.

* * *

Sitting at the dingy bar three shots and half an hour later, Dean finally understood why he had reacted as rashly as he did. If his father left to hunt independently, he didn't want their next meeting to be between a lifeless mangled corpse and a grieving son. 

  
He's already experienced John's death once, no one should have to go through that kind of pain twice for one person. Dean didn't want to be apart from his father more than need be. While it was a given that everyone had to die, he prayed he would receive that final gift before either Sam or John.  
  
Through the haze of alcohol, Dean had a sudden burst of clarity. He shouldn't just sit here in this hole getting himself blind drunk, he should be with John, enjoying the time they had left together--if he really would leave--and explaining to him why he had become so upset, like a rational adult. When he looked at it objectively, Dean realized he sometimes behaved like a spoiled brat.  
  
Getting unsteadily to his feet, Dean started to make a slow beeline towards the door. He was thinking of how he hadn't eaten anything since the early afternoon, and how surely that was why the three shots were affecting him more strongly than usual, when he felt a hand on his elbow, attempting to guide him.

* * *

It shouldn't have happened like this--when one was drunk and the other guilty. And yet... the only thing thing that mattered to Dean was the electrifying feel of skin against skin, the passionate thudding of hearts, the sound of clothing being shed.  
  
Nothing else mattered now--not even his father's inevitable departure. Dean might be all alone in the world a week from now, but tonight, all that mattered was his father's love. Dean was neither crazy nor ignorant--this was not what paternal love was supposed to be. This was lust, affection, and codependency rolled up into one messed-up, unhealthy relationship that happened to be between father and son.  
  
And oh how it burned--the raw energy given off by his pounding heart and throbbing member matching the sting of penetration perfectly. The further John  pushed inside of him, the higher Dean floated above the clouds. He didn't usually get high off of pain. In fact, he often did his best to avoid it. But this was different, it was magical.  
  
Dean didn't want coddling tenderness, he wanted to feel alive. Anything but the bitter numbness that had settled on his heart since John had announced he was going solo. And this rough, animalistic sex was just what he needed. Though he couldn't exactly explain why, Dean felt that every sharp thrust of his father's dick absolved him of his sins just a bit more.


End file.
